


Marcy & Paul - The Couple Who Should Have Been (Essay)

by HeatAndChills



Category: Cabin Fever (2002)
Genre: Canon, Canon Compliant, Canon Related, Canon Universe, Character Study, Eli Roth - Freeform, Essay, Essays, F/M, FanTheories, Fanwork Research & Reference Guides, Meant To Be, Meta, Metafiction, Research, Ship Manifesto, Shipping, Speculation, article, canonical, fantheory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-15
Updated: 2020-10-15
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:22:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27024997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeatAndChills/pseuds/HeatAndChills
Summary: A non-fiction essay which explores the subtleties of Marcy, Paul, and their unforgettable love scene in Cabin Fever, in an attempt to decode one of the film's most enigmatic twists.Many reviewers have panned Marcy & Paul's impulsive affair as a pointless and/or lazy detour in Cabin Fever's narrative. But careful examination of the film suggests that their affair played a far more relevant role in the overall story than many audience members realize.In fact, the significance of Marcy & Paul's sex scene may run so deep that it fundamentally changes the whole meaning of the film, once it is recognized.
Relationships: Marcy/Paul (Cabin Fever)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 3





	Marcy & Paul - The Couple Who Should Have Been (Essay)

**Author's Note:**

> You may or may not be familiar with Cabin Fever, a low-budget horror film that found unexpected success at the box office back in 2002 and has since come to be regarded as a cult classic.

For the uninitiated, Cabin Fever’s basic plot is about five college friends who go on vacation and find themselves trapped in the middle of a deadly viral outbreak. But as with many films, the central premise is really just a framework around which to tell a story about relationships. We start out with an established party of five friends, with its own established dynamics, and watch how these relationships change in the face of a life-or-death catastrophe.

Arguably, what set Cabin Fever apart from other horror films of its era was its off-beat and often surreal style of storytelling. The five leads are highly relatable, but beyond them the film’s ensemble of eerily eccentric secondary characters weave together to create an environment that feels ‘sort of’ like the rational world we all live in - but not quite.

Even more jarring, however, are the numerous ninety-degree turns that the narrative abruptly takes. Critics of the film - and there are many - have been known to jeer these twists as senseless curve-balls that Eli Roth (the director & co-writer) threw in for cheap shock value. But keener fans will point out how most of these so-called ‘cheap curve-balls’ have deeper ties to the rest of the story than you might notice at first glance.

One such twist is the unexpected sexual affair that flares up between Paul and Marcy early in the film’s final act. The affair is practically over as soon as it’s begun, and many reviewers have regarded it as a pointless detour in the narrative for the sake of some on-screen nudity. After all, the scene had no obvious build-up. Paul and Marcy had no romance, so why should they end up in bed together?

The problem with these critiques is that they are all based upon the shallowest possible observations. The scene won’t make sense to anyone who can’t be bothered to look carefully for the sense behind it. But as avid fans of Cabin Fever know, there is more going on in the film than what we see at first glance. In both the literal and figurative sense, Cabin Fever is all about what’s going on beneath the surface.

Far from the ‘pointless detour’ it is often reputed to be, I believe that Paul and Marcy’s affair was a justified and clever development in the story line. In fact, I would say that out of all of Cabin Fever’s ‘shock twists’, Marcy’s affair with Paul is probably the most essential.

First thing’s first; you can’t appreciate the significance of their sex scene if you aren’t up to speed on the context it takes place within. So I’ll summarize the key details:

Initially, Marcy is in a relationship with Jeff. A scene early in the film establishes that they have a very robust sex life; so from the very beginning, we are conditioned to assume that she can’t end up with anyone else. Likewise, the film establishes that Paul has been carrying a torch for Karen for years, and is only now beginning to pluck up the courage to make a move on her. So we are also conditioned to assume that Paul can’t end up with anyone except Karen.

Then... disaster! First of all, a vagrant with some horrible flesh-eating disease invades their peaceful vacation and immobilizes their car. Then, to their horror, they discover that he has somehow passed his illness on to Karen!

Panic ensues. In the hours that follow, the relationships between the five friends break down and turn sour. Bert and Jeff separately flee the cabin the following morning. By which time, Karen is all but on her deathbed. Marcy and Paul are now, in effect, all alone as the last two ‘healthy’ people left at the cabin.

Paul discovers Marcy staring numbly out a window, her will seemingly broken by the tragedy surrounding her, and the likelihood that she herself may fall prey to the deadly illness that has all but killed her friend. He does his best to reassure her - to no avail.

This is when Marcy delivers the notorious line that serves as the prelude to their sex scene,

> _“It’s like being on a plane when you know it’s gonna crash. Everyone around you is screaming, yelling, ‘We’re going down! We’re going down!’ And all you really want to do is grab the person next to you and fuck the shit out of them, ‘cause you know you’re gonna be dead soon, anyway.”_

The very next thing we see is Marcy and Paul - both stark naked - tumbling onto the bed together, already joined in the act of sex. The situation has escalated so swiftly that even the lovers themselves seem to be bewildered by what’s happening.

This very abrupt escalation in their friendship is precisely why a lot of Cabin Fever’s critics pan this scene. That, and the fact that once it is finished, Paul and Marcy both seem to wrestle with regrets about what they’d just done. It is virtually never referenced again in the film.

It’s true - to the bare bones of Cabin Fever’s central narrative, Paul and Marcy’s affair is an inconsequential diversion.

So then, why is it in the film at all?

Why?

It’s a question that deserves to be asked before we condemn, or laud, the scene’s inclusion in the film. And in order to answer that question we first need to ask three establishing questions:

  1. Who is Marcy?
  2. Who is Paul?
  3. Who are they to one another?



The purpose of the initial few minutes of any film is to introduce you, the audience, to its central characters. Cabin Fever performs this duty very efficiently. Though it may seem like 20 minutes of frivolous horsing around by a handful of rowdy college kids, the introductory portion of Cabin Fever gives us a great deal of insight into who these characters are.

Some of Bert’s earliest on-screen actions are to childishly withhold cigarettes from Marcy and to shoplift a Snickers bar - which he could easily afford - from the general store; gestures that teach us that he’s a deliberately obnoxious pest. One of Jeff’s earliest on-screen acts is to smarmily berate the father of the intellectually-handicapped boy who bit Paul; enlightening us to his inflated self-worth. Karen begins the film by judgmentally looking on - without intervening - while the same man brutally disciplines his son; enlightening us to her standoffish and introverted nature.

That’s three of our five protagonists. And within the opening minutes of the story, each of them has shown, to various degrees, a self-centered streak; be it through malice (Bert), ego (Jeff), or an unwillingness to risk their own safety to protect someone in need (Karen).

Paul and Marcy’s introductory minutes are considerably different.

One of the first things Paul does in Cabin Fever is to sit beside a lonely-looking kid on a swing seat and offer him a friendly greeting. Then - after the kid bites him - Paul pleads with the kid’s father not to harm the boy. In direct contrast to Karen’s encounter with this abusive father (which actually comes a few minutes later), Paul, who has more reason than anyone to resent the boy, stands up to a larger, scarier man to defend the boy’s wellbeing.

Our first impressions of Paul show us a selfless, kind young man who is prepared to stand up and be heroic when required. His very next scene emphasizes those caring traits, as he is seen petting and playing with a pair of friendly dogs that wander over to greet him.

Marcy’s introductory scenes are something of a mixed bag of character exposition. In them, we discover a girl who is extroverted, flirty, fun-loving and crazy about her boyfriend, Jeff. When she defuses the tension between Jeff and the blonde boy’s father, we see her as the pragmatic peacemaker. But one of the subtler expressions of her character in those introductory scenes is a line she casually drops in the general store, about wanting to buy a gift for Jeff’s mother. In that seemingly innocuous line, we discover that Marcy, too, is visibly selfless.

By the time Cabin Fever’s narrative really takes off - that is, by the scene where Bert first encounters the diseased vagrant - Paul and Marcy are the only two out of the five main characters who have demonstrated any genuine selflessness. They are distinct from their peers - most notably their own love interests - yet share this virtuous streak in common with one another. 

This is very significant, as selfishness and self _less_ ness go on to become major themes in Cabin Fever.

Later, after Karen falls ill, Marcy and Paul distinguish themselves once again by being the only two who seem genuinely troubled by the group’s decision to quarantine Karen in the toolshed. Marcy takes care to prepare a meal for Karen, while Paul ventures out into the dark, dangerous woods to get Karen immediate help. Bert, Jeff and Karen, by contrast, only seem to be concerned with their own wellbeing at this stage.

More significantly, when the group finally breaks apart following the botched attempt to get Karen to a hospital, Marcy and Paul are the only two who refuse to abandon Karen.

It’s in this culmination of their selflessness that the pair find themselves left all alone together in the cabin, having learned that the only person noble enough to support them through this crisis is each other. This climate of hard-earned mutual trust is the crucible in which their love affair ultimately flares to life. Put simply, Paul and Marcy end up sleeping together, largely because they - and they alone - are selfless people.

So aside from selflessness, what else do we learn about Paul and Marcy from the earlier scenes of the film? 

As the setting transitions from the general store to the cabin itself, the exposition shifts away from the characters as individuals and towards the characters’ relationships. Here, we learn who Paul and Marcy are, in terms of how they navigate their love lives.

Marcy wastes no time in settling into her bedroom with Jeff, for an afternoon of lovemaking. She knows what she wants and just goes for it. Although the sex scene itself begins with Jeff in the dominant position, we see that Marcy is able to effortlessly turn the tables and take control of the situation. Sexually, she is clearly a very strong, very confident and very competent character.

At the same time, we see Paul, awkwardly bumbling through an attempt to woo Karen, a girl we learn he’s had a secret crush on for something like ten years. The scene ultimately ends with him making some significant progress (he and Karen share their first kiss). But his success isn’t earned through his own romantic skill. It happens because Karen steps up and offers Paul the kiss that she knows he wants, but is too shy to ask for himself.

So it seems that, in the realm of love, Paul and Marcy are polar opposites; an expert and a fool. Just file this information away for now - it’ll be important later.

Our next major insight into Marcy’s and Paul’s characters comes during the group’s encounter with the diseased vagrant. This scene is where we first come to see Marcy and Paul as realistically flawed characters. Elsewhere in the film we repeatedly see them to be nobler than their self-centered companions. But in this scene Paul and Marcy succumb to panic and the mob mentality that ultimately results in the vagrant’s death.

Although they are both good, decent people at heart, they are just as susceptible as any of their friends to behaving foolishly, or even dangerously when they are scared. We see in other instances that Paul and Marcy are capable of being incredibly brave and strong, but they are still fallible human beings.

Once again - file this detail away, because it will be important later. 

In the aftermath of the confrontation with the vagrant, we are reminded of who Marcy and Paul truly are.

As the five leads bed down for the night, Jeff, Bert and Karen have all managed to get to sleep; though in the latter two cases, their dreams seem to be haunted by the disturbing events of the day. Marcy and Paul alone are kept awake by their consciences.

In back-to-back shots, we see them both staring out separate windows, into the dark woods where their great transgression occurred and where, presumably, their unfortunate victim now lays dead. While all five of the protagonists share an equal responsibility for the deadly chaos that ensued after the arrival of the vagrant, Marcy and Paul distinguish themselves by being visibly preoccupied with guilt and remorse over the vagrant’s fate. Once again, we see that these two share a uniquely considerate streak that sets them apart from their peers.

Visually, this scene is cleverly edited to emphasize the parallels between Marcy and Paul. The shots of each of them staring out a window into the dark woods are filmed back to back and are practically mirror images of one another. Though separated by the wooden walls of the cabin, and their own separate romantic entanglements, these two are, unknowingly, united in sprit by their common unease. At this point, you could be forgiven for thinking that these two really belong in bed together; holding one another and helping one another cope with the anguish that only each other seems to appreciate.

Once you notice the visual and contextual symmetry between Paul and Marcy in this scene, you begin to realize that this symmetry crops up repeatedly in Cabin Fever. For example, during the earlier fireside chat with their friends, Paul and Marcy both subconsciously settled into the same position; sitting in chairs, affectionately caressing their love interests, who are both sitting on the floor at their feet.

[ ](https://i.imgur.com/pU6r4te.jpg)

_Paul and Marcy are repeatedly depicted in a symmetrical fashion to one another._

  
During that same scene, we watch Paul sit in silent frustration as Karen - his lifelong unattained dream girl - explicitly describes her escapades with masturbation. Meanwhile, Marcy makes a facetious remark implying that Jeff failed to ‘satisfy’ her the first time they slept together. So again, we strike an intriguing symmetry between these two characters, one harboring a profound, yet unspoken sexual frustration; the other expressing a lighthearted sexual frustration. And once again, we are reminded of what stark inversions these two are of one another in their sexual personas. Marcy is sexually confident and outspoken, to the point where she can comfortably joke about her sex life; Paul, on the other hand is reserved and brooding.

More significantly, Paul and Marcy’s narratives become mirror images of one another during the final two days of their ordeal. On the first morning, Paul remains in the cabin, essentially licking his emotional wounds while accomplishing nothing of practical value. Meanwhile, Marcy ventures out into the woods on an aimless and ill-advised quest to satisfy herself that she is “doing something” about the crisis. Though ultimately, like Paul, she accomplishes nothing of value.

Come the following morning, in the immediate aftermath of their sex scene, these roles are perfectly reversed. This time, it is Marcy who lingers idly in the cabin, licking her wounds, while Paul aimlessly and fruitlessly ventures out into the woods, in a vain attempt to proactively confront the crisis.

The distinct symmetry that Cabin Fever paints between this pair culminates with the shots that immediately precede Marcy’s death. Both of them are shown, in back-to-back close-ups, turning around to face the camera with looks of sheer horror on their faces. The shots are carbon-copy mirror images of one another. And interestingly, both characters are dripping wet in these shots. That detail is subtle, but it deserves to be emphasized.

Critics of Cabin Fever have always been quick to point out Marcy’s confounding decision to stop and have a bath in the midst of the catastrophe going on all around her. They likewise call out Paul’s foolish decision to climb down into the reservoir to poke the vagrant’s charred corpse with a stick. And the critics are correct! At this stage in the film, Paul and Marcy’s actions fly in the face of common sense! But isn’t it an interesting visual coincidence that these two separate acts of irrationality both lead their characters into a horrifying baptism in Cabin Fever’s tainted waters?

There is no sensible reason why either Paul or Marcy should be dripping wet at this moment. The skies are clear. Yet against all sense and reason, this same absurdity has befallen them both at exactly the same moment. Paul and Marcy, alone, are both dripping wet when they really shouldn’t be.

While this recurring symmetry doesn’t give us much insight into Paul or Marcy’s characters, it very convincingly shows us that they are cut from the same cloth. There is a remarkable commonality in the minor specifics of their personalities: the subtle traits and tendencies that lead them to settle into the same position for a fireside chat with their friends, echo one another’s private journeys and even their irrational missteps. Paul and Marcy repeatedly end up in the same places.

This sort of profound mental commonality is like MiracleGro for a successful relationship.

Between their exceptional mutual selflessness and their recurrent symmetry, Cabin Fever works very hard to communicate to its audience that Marcy and Paul would make a great couple. The message is subtle, but it is far too consistent to be some cinematic fluke.

Now, remember those observations we made about the contrasts in their personalities? Marcy’s brazen social/sexual confidence vs. Paul’s contemplative timidness? Don’t they undermine the idea of Paul and Marcy being a great match for one another?

Surprisingly, no.

Although these aspects of their personalities _contrast_ one another, they are not _incompatible_ with one another. In fact, I would go so far as to say that Paul and Marcy’s key differences make them perfect complements for one another.

Genetically, socially, we have an instinct to seek out partners who complement ourselves; not ones who mirror us. No human is perfect; we all have our weaknesses. So we seek out partners who are weak where we are strong and strong where we are weak, to create a partnership that is much stronger than either of us could ever be alone.

This dynamic plays out incredibly well between Marcy and Paul. Yes, they are two different characters, but those differences never pose a disadvantage to each other, nor creates instability in their partnership. Where Paul is awkward and shy, Marcy is uninhibited and charming. Where Marcy is hotheaded and bitter, Paul is focused and practical. Where Paul is a pushover, Marcy takes no crap. Where Marcy is intimidated by risk to life and limb, Paul doesn’t hesitate to do what’s necessary.

Looking at Paul and Marcy as a couple, you can see the subtle tint of age-old gender stereotypes. Loosely speaking, Marcy is the one adept at the social graces; the emotionally mature one; the compassionate, caring and nurturing one - you know, the _feminine_ one. Whereas Paul is the man of action, marching off to war (i.e. danger), rifle in hand, to preserve the ones he cares for; yet hobbled by stereotypical masculine failings: such as his emotional shyness and his tendency to bottle-up feelings.

Don’t get me wrong; Paul and Marcy aren’t stereotypes. But they incorporate stereotype traits. And they do so with such perfect balance that it makes them practically the perfect couple.

This all comes to a head in the final major scene before they ultimately end up in bed together.

We see them working together with flawless coordination to tend to Karen after she falls violently ill. Paul, the strong, masculine half of the pair, does the manual labor - he runs back to the cabin to fetch the paper towels they need to clean Karen up. Marcy, the emotional, nurturing, feminine half, remains behind to gently stroke Karen’s hair and offer her emotional comfort.

Although their efforts to care for Karen are ultimately futile, they do the best job that any two people in their position could’ve possibly done.

[ ](https://i.imgur.com/eJjxN4u.png)

_Paul and Marcy care for Karen together as two parents may care for their sick child._

  
That image of Paul and Marcy tending to gravely ill Karen together bears more than a passing resemblance to two devoted parents caring for their sickly child. Their exemplary co-management of the situation would demonstrate to each other how biologically well-suited they are. They do such a flawless job together of caring for Karen; just imagine how well they would do raising children.

Even in their eventual sexual encounter we see that Marcy and Paul’s distinct differences are an asset, not a hindrance, in bringing them together as lovers.

Paul’s sexual shyness, which had consistently foiled his hopes of becoming involved with Karen, is no barrier to his eventual involvement with Marcy; because Marcy’s sexual confidence is able to successfully establish a sexual relationship by itself. Marcy is strong where Paul is weak and because of that, their pairing is biologically successful.

If Marcy had been identically timid where Paul was timid, they never could’ve become lovers. Yet because they are different, though not incompatible, they are able to come together quite naturally. It’s as if Marcy and Paul were perfectly made for one another.

Which leads into our third question: Who are Paul and Marcy to one another?

The film doesn’t volunteer much on this subject, but it drops several hints.

The first hint is that they are sharing a vacation cabin together with their three friends. This immediately suggests a significant degree of familiarity, and the film implies that all five of the friends have known each other well for at least several years.

Surprisingly, Paul and Marcy don’t really interact with one another until about twenty minutes into the film.

As the group gathers around their campfire, Paul meekly resists the group’s requests to share a scary urban legend from his home town. It’s the sort of conversational dithering that often gets on people’s nerves and, point of fact, the exchange ends with Bert snapping at Paul to, “Just tell us the fucking story!”

Marcy’s contribution to this exchange is far gentler:

“C’mon Paul, you can tell us. Trauma bonds people.”

The tone of her voice is kind, non-threatening... even a little playful. If it weren’t for the fact that she’s resting her head on the shoulder of her lover, you could almost call it flirty.

This is curious, because throughout the film we repeatedly see that Marcy doesn’t hesitate to call people out when they frustrate her. Paul’s clumsy stalling in that scene is exactly the sort of thing you would expect to try Marcy’s limited patience; yet she handles him in an almost affectionate manner.

Likewise, Paul’s tone in his response is familiar and just a little playful.

“Trauma bonds the people who go through it, not the people you tell it to.”

This response is also a little odd, because Paul, who tends to be shy, doesn’t hesitate to contradict Marcy, a strong, outspoken character. Soon after, he buckles rapidly when he is challenged by Bert, but with Marcy, Paul seems unusually comfortable with speaking his mind openly. Marcy doesn’t intimidate him, which means there is trust there.

This brief exchange suggests that, although Marcy and Paul’s friendship mightn’t be particularly _close_ , it is particularly _warm_ ; warmer, perhaps, than befits such a tangential friendship.

In fact, even as tensions build within the group as the film progresses, Paul and Marcy never become confrontational towards one another. Not all of the characters’ outbursts are rational and fair, and we know that Marcy in particular isn’t shy about venting her frustrations upon others. Yet amidst this volatile climate, Paul and Marcy never square off against one another. It’s almost as if their friendship has some unspecified resilience that can withstand the ever-growing friction within the cabin.

One of the biggest clues we get about their friendship comes about halfway through the film. All the other relationships amongst the group have broken down; Jeff and Marcy are no longer sharing a bed. So whose bed does Marcy end up sleeping in? Paul’s.

There’s a certain intimacy in sharing your bed with another person - especially when crossing gender lines. Even when we allow for the disruptive effects of the outbreak, and even when we acknowledge that Paul and Marcy were both sleeping together fully clothed and in a completely innocuous position, their decision to share a bed - rather than, say, have Paul sleep on the floor - demands a certain level of familiarity.

Yes, we certainly see their bond strengthen over the trials of the previous 24 hours, but you can’t just build up such a comfortable relationship overnight, or with a handful of incidental trust-building gestures. Paul and Marcy’s existing friendship must have provided a sturdy foundation for this intimate gesture.

Otherwise, Cabin Fever is curiously short on exposition about Paul and Marcy’s relationship.

But is it possible that this scarcity of detail is, in itself, a major clue about their relationship with one another?

Given everything we’ve uncovered so far, about the striking compatibility between these two characters, it seems odd that they wouldn’t have a close, engaged friendship. They seem like they should be very good friends at the very least.

One thing we do know is that they are each thoroughly entrenched in their own separate romantic situations. Marcy is singularly devoted to Jeff and Paul’s entire life revolves around his pursuit of Karen.

Beyond this, what I have to say about their relationship is sheer speculation. But I believe Paul and Marcy may have subconsciously maintained a safe level of distance between them, so they wouldn’t have to acknowledge how well suited they are for one another. Because where would that road have led? For Marcy it would’ve meant asking some hard questions about her established relationship with Jeff, and facing a difficult decision about whether she was willing to give up what she had, to for a slim chance at a relationship with a guy she might’ve shared a real connection with. For Paul, it would’ve meant completely redefining his entire life and identity, as his entire life since adolescence had revolved around a single, indisputable truth: that Karen was the girl for him. Worst of all, even if either of them had been willing to face up to the fact that they would’ve been a good match for the other, they couldn’t be certain that the other would be willing to upend their own established love life to pursue a relationship with them.

The unspoken connection that we clearly observe between Paul and Marcy was dangerous for both of them, because if they indulged it too deeply, it could well have upended one or both of their lives, with no guarantee of a happy ending.

We’ve seen how, in spite of their virtues, Marcy and Paul are both human beings, with human frailties. Humans have a natural aversion to things that are complicated or risky. We like life to be simple. We like life to be safe. I would suggest that this is true for Paul and Marcy as well. Perhaps these two subconsciously built a distance between themselves to protect the simplicity of their lives, in much the same way as they fought on-screen to keep their distance from the diseased vagrant, and later Karen.

Before we answer the overarching question, “Why did Marcy and Paul have sex?”, there is one final background question we need to address:

What is Cabin Fever all about?

More than anything else, it’s a brutally honest study of human failings. It’s about the stupid mistakes that everyday people make and their facing up to the tragic, often unfair consequences of those unwitting mistakes.

Fate plays a role in Cabin Fever, certainly. But the characters’ unfortunate ends are largely of their own making. Throughout the film, there are countless instances where the characters are presented with an opportunity to avoid their sad fate, only to foolishly squander it, through a seemingly minor mistake.

Fear is arguably the most costly human failing explored in this character study. Many of the characters’ most disastrous missteps are born out of fear. Specifically, they tend to be so intimidated by short-term consequences that they fail to do what is ultimately in their own best interests. For example, when Jeff and Bert make their hasty exit from the “pig lady’s” farm. Had they remained at her farm and used her radio to summon help, they may well have averted many, if not all of the subsequent fatalities in the film. But instead, they fled, because they were afraid that if they stuck around they would eventually have to admit to the lady that they had accidentally killed her cousin. 

Another major theme of the film is the way that people reveal their true character in the face of a true crisis. This theme plays off the first in numerous fascinating ways, to create unique narratives for each of the main characters. For example, Jeff, who is initially framed as a handsome alpha male, is revealed to be the most flawed, cowardly character of all, once the shit first hits the fan. Bert, on the other hand, initially a hopeless oaf, rapidly evolves into a dependable ally once there are lives that genuinely depend on him.

For our cast of main characters, staring into the face of death galvanizes them to focus on what is most important, and dictates their behavior for the brief remainder of their lives. Jeff abandons everything - his friends, his gorgeous lover, his dignity, and probably even his reputation - for the sake of securing what is truly most precious to him: his own life. Bert, in what almost seems like an act of attrition, dedicates himself to helping his friends survive the disaster; ultimately deliberately sacrificing himself for this end. In facing death, he appears visibly humbled by the realization of how petty and hollow his lifetime of juvenile hijinks has been, and dedicates his final hours to doing something - anything - that he can be genuinely proud of. Living a life that ultimately had value is what is most important to Bert.

So then, within this broader context of Cabin Fever’s narrative, I once again ask the question, “Why did Marcy and Paul have sex?”

Because they belonged together. Because it was a foolish mistake for them _not_ to be together. And once they were confronted with the grim reality that they might not have much longer to live, they realized just how badly they yearned to resolve the burning, unspoken attraction between them. In the precious final hours of their lives, consummating their powerful latent feelings towards one another became their most important priority.

I’ve lost count of the number of times I’ve read commentary about Cabin Fever that specifically reference Marcy and Paul’s sex scene, incredulously stating, “That’s _the last_ thing you would do if you were in that situation!”

That would be very true, if you interpret the scene as just a run-of-the-mill instance of casual sex. It is hard to believe that anyone would feel stimulated to initiate sex with a random partner during the dire circumstances surrounding that scene.

But considering how persistently Cabin Fever paints a meaningful connection between these two, I find it hard to believe that the act could be random. The way they are framed on screen, the way they interact, the commonality in their choices, and most importantly, the very nature of their characters, all unanimously indicate that Marcy and Paul are much, much more than just two random people.

Even within the sex scene and its immediate lead-up, we are given numerous clues that it is merely the culmination of a much larger story.

The scene begins with Marcy waiting solemnly upon the bed. It’s as if she has already decided that this is where her final healthy moments with Paul should be spent. Paul steps into the room, via a connecting door with _Karen’s_ bedroom.

Let that sink in. Paul deliberately steps out of Karen’s bedroom and into Marcy’s. It’s an interesting cinematic allusion, and it implies that, by this point, Paul has abandoned his sexual pursuit of Karen and recognized he belongs with Marcy.

He places his hand gently upon her thigh, in a way that a truly platonic friend would be most unlikely to.

Throughout their dialogue in that scene, their body language indicates that they are both subconsciously aware of what they have come there to do; they are just hesitant to say it out loud. But their destiny as lovers does not come entirely as a surprise, nor is it unwelcome to either of them.

As the film abruptly transitions into the sex scene itself, it’s hard not to notice similarities with the iconic love scene between Sarah Connor and Kyle Reese in The Terminator.

Much like Cabin Fever, the scene begins with the characters lamenting the inevitability of the murderous Terminator coming to kill them. It then evolves into a confession about a longstanding, unspoken love, which is soon after consummated. It turns out to be the pivotal scene; not only for the film, but for the entire franchise. It’s the moment when The Terminator’s central figure, John Connor, is conceived. It is a moment that is deeply woven into the story’s lore; a moment that is immutably destined to occur; a moment that is indispensable to the story’s beginning, progression, and ending.

[ ](https://i.imgur.com/2geqgQf.png)

_The relationship progression of Kyle Reese and Sarah Connor in The Terminator is notably similar to Marcy and Paul's relationship in several ways. In particular, both couples become lovers under very similar circumstances._

  
While Cabin Fever doesn’t delve into the mind-boggling science fiction of causality loops, the connotations of Paul and Marcy’s sex scene are quite similar to Kyle and Sarah’s.

It’s no coincidence that their love scene occurs immediately after they share that pseudo-parental moment with Karen. Then, once their sex scene actually begins, they explicitly inform the audience that they aren’t using any protection. If you were watching this film for the first time, you could be forgiven for predicting that the film would end with Marcy discovering she’s pregnant. The scene resonates with an elusive sense of predestination; as if the entire flow of the film has been unavoidably careening towards this instant of Paul and Marcy having unprotected sex. On a subconscious level, their conduct throughout the film would’ve done an impeccable job of convincing one another that they are an ideal mate to procreate with.

Even those formless impressions we draw from the scene can help us determine its meaning and significance. After all, impressions are merely tools a filmmaker uses to tell a more layered story. So, if we are given the sense that Marcy was destined from the beginning to have Paul’s baby, then what does that tell us about Paul, Marcy, and their relationship, beyond the context of the virus outbreak? Could it be that the ideal outcome for these two would’ve been a marriage with children? Is that what would’ve been right for them? Are they “meant to be”?

The manner in which they ultimately make love further suggests that the act is much more than a casual encounter. They are unyielding. They are _hungry_. They aren’t remotely distracted by the tragedy around them. They aren’t lost or confused. They aren’t “just going through the motions”, or numbed by the irrelevance of their lover. They know what they are doing and they completely relish every second of it.

It’s difficult to believe that such enthusiasm could be fueled by an impulse that flared up over a mere few minutes. It feels more like it is fueled by a desire that has smoldered over several years.

Once they are finished, Paul wraps his arms around her and embraces her tightly. He yearns to keep her, even after he’s had her.

[ ](https://i.imgur.com/0S55TIU.png)

_Paul and Marcy's body language in the immediate aftermath of their sexual encounter suggests a level of intimacy that is personal, as well as physical._

  
When we truly observe Paul and Marcy, how they interact throughout the film, and ultimately, how they make love, we get a surprisingly coherent, detailed and consistent picture of what their sex scene was all about. We get a picture of two people who had harbored a deep, secret attraction toward one another for many years, yet had never acted upon it. Then, in the face of immanent death, they found themselves with one final chance - just one - to seize the beautiful dream that they had never before had the courage to reach for.

Marcy and Paul’s sex scene is far more significant than the random, absurd twist it is often mistaken to be. In fact, it is arguably the single most important scene within the entire film.

It feels a little strange writing this now, in the age of COVID; but back in 2002 when Cabin Fever came out, it was a very fanciful film. Being trapped within an outbreak of a flesh-eating virus? Being hunted by homicidal hillbillies? These were things that just didn’t happen to everyday Americans! Even being aware that there were indeed such things as flesh-eating viruses and the odd homicidal hick skulking around in real life, we remained confident that the odds of us personally encountering such horrors ourselves were virtually nil. As with most films, Cabin Fever’s unlikeliness lent it a fictitious quality that kept us comfortably detached from the story.

But in the background, Paul and Marcy’s narrative portrays the disturbing premise of Cabin Fever in a different way; a more realistic, relatable way.

No, most of us will never know the horror of being eaten alive by a flesh-eating virus, or savagely mauled by a mad dog. But watching the great love that should have been pass us by, because of our own awful mismanagement of the situation? Now _that_ is a tragedy that millions upon millions of everyday viewers will be all too familiar with.

Cabin Fever is notorious for its usage of disturbing imagery to tell its primary story: a story of pretty young college students gruesomely decaying into lifeless corpses; young, vibrant lives being robbed of their hope, their zest, their potential, their promising futures. If you take away all that explicit gore, the themes are strikingly similar to Paul and Marcy’s situation. How common is it for people to “waste away” in joyless complacency in the absence of their great lost love? How often do people settle for a lesser, loveless relationship, or gently abide the absence of a stable long-term relationship, once their shot at true love has passed them by? How common is it for people to feel themselves dying a little each day once they have lost their dream? And when we fail to acquire the great love we should have had, isn’t that in a sense the loss of our hopes, our dreams, the bright future we should have had?

The one remaining question about Marcy and Paul’s love affair is: if they _were_ meant to be together, then why do they ultimately part ways after they’ve had sex?

Because ultimately, Cabin Fever is a tragedy. Our heroes do not get a happy ending in this film. The virus wins. And when you watch Marcy and Paul’s post-coital scenes, you can see that it is the virus that comes between them, not some inherent incompatibility with one another.

Their hearts are both weighed down with the grief and fear that the virus brings with it. What should have been a euphoric moment for both of them is forever tarnished by the stark reality it occurred within. They can’t acknowledge the rightness of them finally coming together, because their entire world at that point is in ruin.

[ ](https://i.imgur.com/GdBymAA.png)

_Cabin Fever 's graphic imagery of bodies wasting away serves as a striking metaphor for the everyday tragedy of life passing people by. Marcy and Paul's background story of a love that passes by without being seized is a quintessential example of such squandered opportunities._

  
In this regard, the virus performs its duty superbly, as a metaphor for the inescapable march of time and the decay it wreaks. Marcy and Paul do get their moment of triumphant passion; but they left it too late, and subsequently their victory is only fleeting. Just as in real life, sometimes lovers who wait too long to pursue one another find that the passage of time has made the long, blissful marriage they’ve long dreamed of unattainable.

Paul and Marcy’s story is the same as the film’s central narrative; merely presented differently. It’s the story of flawed human beings who squander their opportunity for the wonderful lives they could have had, through foolishness and cowardice. Just as the five leads could have escaped and survived if Jeff and Bert had only been brave and smart enough to persist with asking the “pig lady” for help, so too could Paul and Marcy have found a happy future if they’d only been smart and brave enough to admit they were attracted to one another. Just as Bert, and then later Paul, venture back out into civilization - only to find that it is too late for them to be saved, so too do Paul and Marcy make a bold leap into an intimate relationship, only to realize they have left it too late. Life has passed them by. There is no time left in their hourglasses for the grand love story that might have been.

That is why, in my opinion, Paul and Marcy’s love scene is probably the most important in Cabin Fever. It’s the scene that makes the underlying themes of loss and wasting away real for the audience. It’s the scene that truly reflects the movie’s bleak themes within the human experience. And that is why its implications are by far the most disturbing. 

Marcy and Paul are a poignant reminder that tragedies are all around us; and often the worst of them don’t even involve blood or gunfire. Often they are just beautiful lost opportunities that disappear without fuss or fanfare. And the most gut-wrenching thing about it is that often these wonderful opportunities are lost through silly little mistakes we make and our irrational anxieties. For want of a little wisdom or backbone, an entire life can easily be destroyed.

I for one can’t watch Cabin Fever without wondering what could’ve become of Marcy and Paul if they’d gone on to live together. We can wonder, but we’ll never know. That, I believe, is the point.

[ ](https://i.imgur.com/4dToXXX.png)

**Author's Note:**

> _What are your thoughts? Do you agree with my conclusions about Marcy and Paul's love affair? Disagree? Do you have alternate theories about any of elements I've commented on?_
> 
> _Let us know what you think! Leave a comment!_
> 
> _The more robust our discussions about the Cabin Fever fandom are, the stronger our community becomes!_


End file.
